A Corner In Istanbul
by BLallittoMD
Summary: Somehow I always knew I'd find you again. Willow/Oz


**_Author's Note_: Inspired by Willow and Oz's conversation at the end of _New Moon Rising_, this takes place years into the future.**

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**A Corner In Istanbul**

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She was crossing a street in New York when she saw him. It had been years since she had last laid eyes on him, but Willow would recognize him anywhere. He must have recognized her too, for a broad smile broke out over his face, and he began to approach her. Willow's feet moved of their own accord; she closed the distance between them, calling out his name.

"Oz!" she exclaimed happily, time and distance apart making the reunion all the more dear. Oz pulled her into a hug, sighing her name into the hair splayed across her shoulder. Willow tightened her embrace, suddenly missing the comfort being in his arms provided. Time seemed to slow, their surroundings becoming blurred, leaving only the two of them. Willow pulled back slightly to take him in, committing each new curve and ridge of his face to memory.

At length, they separated, choosing to make their way over to a nearby café. Seating themselves at an outside table, Oz began the task of starting the conversation.

"Wow," he muttered, overcome by the emotions Willow's mere presence had awoken in him. "It's been…"

"Years," Willow finished, a serene smile forming on her lips. "Somehow I always knew I'd find you again. And I did, in New York of all places."

Oz nodded imperceptibly. "Well it's no Istanbul, but it'll serve its purpose."

Willow laughed lightly, a striking contrast to her mood that night in Oz's van. Back then, she would've thought their future reunion would be filled with awkwardness and repressed grief. Yet somehow it just felt right. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked, eager to familiarize herself with his proceedings once more.

Oz's face turned pensive. "Well, I guess you could say I've improved on my guitar-playing. My new band just got a record deal. I'm here to meet with the record company. Oh, and I finally learned how to play the diminished ninth."

Willow shrieked with glee, clapping her hands together. "Oz! That's wonderful!"

Oz smiled. "Yeah, it is, but it's not the greatest thing I've accomplished." He paused, taking in the transformation from excitement to confusion on Willow's face. "I've been training with this group of monks, and I've finally learned how to control the wolf. It'll always be a part of me, but it'll live inside of me, and not out."

Willow's heart swelled with pride. Her mouth hung open in a little 'O', too stunned to form words. Oz, her Oz, had done the impossible. He had finally succeeded in doing what he had set out to accomplish. Eventually, she found her voice.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Oz…that's _incredible! _Words cannot express how utterly proud I am of you right now."

Oz's face seemed to glow at that. He reached out and placed his hand over Willow's on the table. "Enough about me. I want to hear about you and Sunnydale."

Willow chuckled. "Well, there's no longer a Sunnydale to hear about. It's kind of been reduced to a giant crater." Oz looked at her oddly, and she shook her head. "It's a long story, which I promise I'll get to later. Um, oh! I turned evil once!"

Oz looked at her even more oddly. "But the good kind, right?"

Willow smiled slightly. "No, the scary, veiny kind. Tara died and I couldn't cope very well, so I kind of settled on destroying the world."

Oz looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Will."

"It's okay. I've finally gotten my magic under control, so I guess you could say we have that in common."

Oz's gaze swept over Willow's features, fascinated by the changed woman before him. "I've missed you, Willow."

That simple statement was all it took for the tears to begin forming in the corners of her eyes. A hole that Willow had never been aware of, or had chosen to ignore, began to fill in her heart, in her _soul_. "You've always been the one person I've wanted to see, no matter what was going on," she revealed.

"Every day I thought, _what would Willow think_, or, _what would Willow do_?" he replied, overwhelmed with past sorrow. "I wanted to call you _every_ day."

"I'm here now," Willow stated. "You don't have to call."

Oz laughed at the joke, overjoyed that she was actually here with him. He stared into her eyes, suddenly serious. "You'll always be my one, Willow. Nothing will ever change that."

Willow squeezed his hand. "And you'll always be mine."

Oz seemed to recall something, for his eyes suddenly lit up with a question. "You never told me what you were doing in New York?" he inquired, curious.

Willow grinned. "I'd never been, though I'd always wanted to see it. I had a strange feeling that if I didn't go now, I'd regret it for the rest of my life."

Oz's grin now matched her own. "Well it's a good thing you listened," he remarked. After a pause, he withdrew his hand from hers, getting up from the table. Willow's hand felt a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature. "I've got to go meet with the record company. If you want, you can come, and after we could go grab dinner, catch up some more…"

Willow nodded. "Sounds nice," she said. As if something had just occurred to her, her eyes widened, and she looked at Oz with a bemused expression. "We never ordered any coffee."

Oz chuckled. "There's always time for coffee."


End file.
